Morning Walks
by exiledasrogue
Summary: Romano needs space and Spain needs the opposite of space. Romano takes walks in the morning but he never told Spain. What happens when Spain wakes up and panics when Romano isn't there? This is a really bad summary. I'm not even sure what this story is about, but I liked reading it so you should like reading it. Italy is annoying but still lovable. Spamano.


**Hey all. I'm on vacation right now and I keep getting all these ideas and then I keep writing them out so I'm just going to keep posting until my brain is sucked dry of brain juice.**

**This one was going to just be a fluffy family story between Spain and the Italies but it ended up being a Spamano fic because I adore those two way too much. **

**I've never written any of the characters in this story, but I think they turned out alright anyways. I apologize if it feels rushed. I don't normally write a story all in one day. I usually take at least a week to edit so this is strange for me.**

**There's swearing because Romano and there's one or two mentions of sexual situations but that's basically it.**

**Have fun.**

* * *

For a long time, I took walks in the morning. I would get up at 5:00 or so and crawl out of bed. I'd take my Vespa and zip through the early morning dark to the coast just in time to watch the sun rise around 5:30. I'd stay and watch and enjoy the blessed peace and quiet before I drove back and crawled back into bed until noon or so.

Granted, this routine was abandoned every tomato season because it was too hot to harvest any time after 9 or so. But that was only a month or so out of twelve, so for the most part, I took walks in the morning.

That is, until France and every country south of him got tired of Antonio and me treating each other as family and we became a different sort of family. Like the newlywed bride and groom fuck-each-other's-brains-out-at-every-opportunity sort of family. Not that we were newlyweds (or ever would be) and we _definitely_ weren't bride and groom. It'd be more of a groom and groom situation. Or groom and idiotic Spaniard. Yeah. Something like that.

Anyways, thanks to the efforts of a ridiculously large coalition of countries, Antonio and I got together for forever. Not that anyone said that, but everyone knew it. And really, it was nice. Better than I expected, to be honest. Antonio was always around, laving me with attention and for the first time I truly felt safe, comfortable, and loved. And I liked that feeling. I liked it a lot.

Of course, there were some things that my Spaniard had trouble understanding. Like a need for space. An _extreme_ need for space. As much as I adored having Antonio around me at all times, I also hated it. I had too much history as a loner to really be able to give up that sense of wanting to be alone- at least sometimes.

The problem was, Antonio was the complete opposite. He had a constant need to be around the people he cared about. And the more he cared, the more he insisted on being _right there_ and a _no, you fucking idiot, get off me, I'm watching the football game_ usually wasn't enough to deter him.

I knew that Spain had always had nightmares. When I was younger and would crawl into bed with him, he knew there was no point in hiding it from me. Since then, I would be there for every nightly terror and I tried my best to calm him down in my own insensitive way. The only thing that ever really helped was allowing him to hold me. He would lay on top of me and rest his head above my heart, and I would run my hands through his curly brown hair until his breathing evened and we both fell asleep.

And that was _before_ we got together. Hah. We were such oblivious idiots. Well, no, that was just him. I was aware of the situation, I just did nothing about it because I'm Italian and I'm a coward.

Anyways, after several centuries of enduring Antonio's nighttime behavior, it wasn't difficult to understand that he was probably dreaming about losing those closest to them. And once I understood that, it became almost impossible to get annoyed when he clung to me as if I was his lifeline. Because maybe I really was.

But the point was that I needed space and Antonio needed the opposite of space and we were both really _bad_ at compromising. Like _really fucking bad_. So we were constantly trying to take an inch in our own direction and we chafed at each other but it was really so much better than being alone_ all the time_ even if we both knew we were never really alone.

So when our relationship got to the point where I woke up every morning wrapped in sexy Spaniard (which took about a week or so), I was wary about continuing my morning walks. I didn't want to risk waking Antonio when I left, only for him to find out what I was doing and insisting on imposing on my peace and quiet- my _solitude._

So in the beginning, I stopped taking walks in the morning. I figured it was too much a risk, and I treasured my refuge too much to give it up for something like that. But eventually, I realized that was backwards thinking. By not allowing myself to go, I was still giving it up. And that was not acceptable. So I decided to try restarting my old routine- sexy Spaniard be damned.

At first, it was fine. I would get up and wiggle out of Antonio's arms before crawling out of bed- he would shift, but not stir- and make my way to the beach as I had always done pre-Spain. And it was wonderful. I got my personal space and half an hour of total serenity (because really, when I wasn't talking, I was a very _quiet_ person), and Antonio got to be _right there_ at all times (as far as he knew, at least).

But then one morning I was sitting on the sand, watching the seagulls, and wondering what it'd be like to be a bird when my phone rang. I immediately hated whoever it was. This was _my_ time and anyone who dared interrupt it was a complete and utter bastard. I looked at the caller ID and stared at it in surprise. What was my gorgeous man doing _awake_? And why was he calling me?

I knew not answering would only send him into a state of panic, so I really only had one choice.

"Hey, Antonio. What do you want?"

Lovi! Where are you? I woke up for some reason and you weren't here!" I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me. Like I didn't know any of that.

"Don't worry, bastard, I'll be home soon. I'm just taking a walk." I declined to mention that my 'walk' included a thirty minute drive.

"O-oh. Okay. But you're alright, aren't you, Lovi? A-are those seagulls I hear? Are you at the beach?" Damnit. When did he gain the observational skills required to notice that?

"Yes, I'm fine, and no, those aren't seagulls. You're just delusional." I snapped my phone shut before he had a chance to respond and let out a long-suffering sigh. I would have to cut today's trip short- and there was a chance that I'd be unable to return on a regular basis now that Antonio knew.

* * *

I trudged along the sand grumpily, trying to convince myself that it'd all be okay. Antonio had found out all too easily that I was, in fact, at the beach when he called me and I was _always_ at the beach at that time of day. He had excitedly told Feliciano about it and the two of them immediately decided that it was a _family _thing.

It wasn't a family thing. Not by a long shot. It was a Romano and Romano only thing but neither of them seemed to realize that. _It'll be like a little mini 2 hour family vacation every morning!_ they told me. As if it was a good thing. It wasn't a good thing. This was _my_ time and they were stealing it from me.

And it meant that Feli was at our house _every morning_ at 5. 5 was not obscenely early when I only had to deal with myself. 5 _was_ obscenely early when I had to deal with Antonio and Feli on top of that. Because as much as I loved my brother- really, I did- he was always _noise_ and _movement_ and morning walks were about _peace_ and _quiet_ but there was no way I could ever tell him that.

I sat down on my usual patch of sand that was just a little higher and drier than the tide line. Antonio sat next to me with a wide, sunny grin that was far too bright considering the fact that the sun wasn't even up yet. But he was being quiet, and I internally praised him for it.

Feliciano, well. He was being Feliciano- entirely _not_ quiet and _not_ still and _not _peaceful. He was fluttering around in his shorts and an unbuttoned shirt, taking pictures on his phone and _Damnit couldn't he turn the sound effects off_ it was driving me nuts and he wouldn't stop talking about how beautiful and quiet and peaceful it is but he was _wrong_ it would only be that way if he could just _shut up_.

But I couldn't just _say_ that. Feliciano was Feliciano and I had known him for too long to think I could say something like that without him assuming I was mad at him or hated him or something ridiculous. Because I didn't hate him, not really, and I never would- I just _really really_ needed my alone time.

So I just stayed silent as I sat on the beach and wished that I had never let them into my sanctuary.

* * *

I was lying on the couch being a general grump later in the afternoon when I was supposed to be taking my siesta. I was intentionally staying awake so it would be easier for me to remain a grump for the rest of the day and therefore make Antonio's life hell. Feli had gone back to that potato bastard's house so I couldn't punish him but I could certainly make my life partner miserable, right?

"Hey," a voice whispered right next to my ear and I knew it was Antonio because he's always _right there_ anyways. I squinted my eyes shut, hoping to appear asleep. "I know you're awake." Well Damnit. Never mind that, then. "You don't have to acknowledge my presence but I needed to apologize for today. I hadn't realized how much your mornings meant to you and I'm sorry. I'll let your brother know that we won't be continuing those 'mini family vacations'." And the bastard chuckled at that, but I could feel my defense melting at his low rumbling accent. "I won't interrupt your alone time and I won't let anyone else do so either. I'm sorry for messing you up. I just wish you had told me beforehand."

I tried to open my eyes with spiteful attitude, but I don't think it really worked considering I was faced with a soft, affectionate, Spanish smile.

"Bastard," I muttered, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I love you, Lovi."

"Ugh. Come on," I groaned, standing up and heading for the bedroom. "Don't you know it's siesta time?"

Antonio grabbed my hand and pulled me gently through our door. I stripped real quick before sliding between the sheets and curling up next to Spain, who pulled me close and wrapped an arm around me. I let out a deep sigh of relief in the cool, dark room before pressing a soft kiss to his bare chest- _I love you too_- and closing my eyes. It was siesta time.

* * *

**I really wasn't sure about that ending. Hmmm.**


End file.
